


A Lazy Ocean Hugs the Shore

by Kassi



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-08 21:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kassi/pseuds/Kassi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rude takes Tifa to an elaborate gay nightclub in Edge. Post-ACC. Slash. Written for Soak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Simple Joys of Maidenhood

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and its characters, places, and situations are (C) copyright Square Enix. They are reproduced here for non-commercial entertainment. All other material is mine.
> 
> The Promised Land: [pictures here](http://tinyurl.com/7zyw7h4).
> 
> Special thanks: [Minotaur's Sex Tips for Slash Writers](http://www.squidge.org/minotaur/classic/eroc.html) and [RealJock Gay Forums](http://www.realjock.com/gayforums/1032214).

Tifa got lost in Seventh Heaven’s countertop. Sometimes she cleaned until she wore away the finish. As her hand’s repetitive swirl continued unchecked she stared at the wall.

_I should take that picture down_ , she thought.

A pressed-butterfly memory looked back at her. Barret’s hand rested on Cloud’s shoulder in the photograph, both men rendered indistinct by Gongaga’s swampy fog. She’d taken it when they traveled the world after Meteorfall, when Cloud still attempted to force a smile on his face. Every time he’d slapped its bandage over his silence it looked more tattered and out of place.

His rare smile these days was a crack in a gradually clearing sky as Geostigma’s shadow faded from the world. He wasn’t around much. The return of his energy brought with it enthusiastic trips to help rebuild the world. All that effort he’d bound up in fighting and grief now exploded out of him in all directions as surely as his blond hair exploded off his head.

She wished she had a better picture to replace the one she frowned at now. Her own energy was still MIA and she despaired of ever having it again. Her feet felt stuck to the ground, her heart stuck in the days that blurred past as Denzel and Marlene grew up before her eyes.

An obstacle stopped her scrubbing, returning her to the present. She glanced down. A leather glove touched the area of the bar she was destroying with her erosion. She looked up into a pair of mirrors and saw herself smile in them.

“Hi,” she said. “What can I get you?”

Rude smiled. “The pleasure of your company.”

She laughed falsely and stifled a wince at her own sound.

“Do you have any plans tonight?” he said, flustering her further.

She frowned. “…No. Cloud’s helping out Cid in Rocket Town, and Barret took Marlene and Denzel to the Gold Saucer for a week.”

“I heard,” he said.

She cocked her head at him. “Spying on me?” She was aware the Turk carried a torch for her. She found it cute and flattering, but didn’t want to string him along while she felt this weight hanging in her chest every time she looked at Cloud.

Rude shrugged. “Close the bar early. Come out with me.”

“…Out?”

“You look like you could use some fun.”

“‘Fun’?” she joked. “What’s that?”

“It won’t hurt. I promise…” He stopped and smiled. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

“Hmm.” She leaned back against the draft spouts, folding her arms, and regarded him. She wondered how long he’d been mustering the courage for this invitation. “You have someplace in mind?”

His grin broadened. She wondered what his eyes looked like behind those omnipresent sunglasses. Even when she’d fought him years ago they stayed on as if glued there.

She looked down at herself, mouth twisting up. Her dingy undershirt just needed to be thrown away. Her leather needed conditioning. She’d let a lot of things go lately. “I’ll go change. Give me twenty minutes. Want a drink while you wait?”

He shook his head.

“On the house,” she said.

“Brandy,” he said instantly.

She gave him a generous pour. _What the hell am I doing?_ she wondered. She shoved the thought out of her head as she pressed the glass in his warm leather glove.

“Something you can dance in,” he called after her as she ascended the stairs.

She paused, hand on the banister, even more surprised.

She’d had lessons, of course; it helped her fighting. She was fairly sure Reno had as well, from the way he pivoted when he kicked, but she wasn’t sure about Rude. She smiled broader. Fighters with a good body sense tended to make phenomenal dancers, as she knew from when Zangan taught her.

Pawing through her closet, hangers scraping on wooden dowels, she found a dress she’d never worn. The one that had blared with promise from a shop window so long ago. She lifted it out: a blue velvet cheongsam slit high up the sides, with a scalloped panel missing across the chest that allowed her to expand her chest and actually inhale, unlike most dresses her size.

_Yes!_ she thought, before she lost her nerve. She stared defiantly at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, slamming chopsticks in her upswept hair. Makeup veiled the dark circles under her eyes, coated her lashes to make her brown eyes pop, and darkened her mouth. Twenty minutes rejuvenated her look so much she felt shocked at the transformation.

Her spike-heeled ankle boots clattered down the stairs. He had only finished half his brandy. She strolled over, hips swaying. She took the glass from his unresisting hand. She knocked back the rest of his drink and felt burning warmth coat her throat. She hoped it could drown the last of her worry she was doing something stupid.

“Let’s go,” she said.

He offered his arm. She slid her hands through and felt his substantial bicep. Her body drank up the meager intimacy like a woman dying of thirst.

“Where’s Reno?” she said as she locked up behind them. “It’s nice to see you alone, I mean… I just wondered. He’s like… your shadow.”

“Northern Continent,” he said, taking her arm again. “Coordinating WRO and Shinra drill teams. Many of them are largely deaf despite hearing protectors. I believe the president’s exact words to Reno were, ‘The situation calls for volume over delicacy.’”

She laughed. He waved down a cab and held the door for her. She felt flustered again, nervous as he slid in beside her and his thigh touched hers. She stared at his leg, unable to hear the address he gave the driver. In the darkness it was hard to see a shape beneath crisply ironed black cloth. Something girlish in her wanted to just touch him.

_Are we going out as friends? Or is this… more?_ she asked herself. Lacking an answer, she leaned back into the seat, watching mist curl off the streets and up from sewer grates. Aloud she said, “Where are we going?”

“The Promised Land,” he said.

Her head whipped around. His impenetrable glasses aimed at her. She rolled her eyes.

“No, really,” she said. “Where?”

His lips quirked but he didn’t reply. When the cab stopped and he let her out, she saw why.

A small green neon sign greeted her with the words: ‘THE PROMISED LAND.’ A red velvet rope stretched across an open archway, two beefy men in fine suits flanking. She heard a faint dance beat, although in the fifth district of Edge this was not unusual at all. Clubs clustered thick on and under the ground here.

Rude produced a shiny gold card from his inner jacket pocket and the rope was unhitched. Tifa strolled into a deserted and oddly tranquil courtyard, lit by stained-glass lanterns. Though bass and drums pulsed louder here, she heard the trickling starburst-tiled fountain just across from the door. A pair of shadowed people murmured to each other on an overlooking second-story balcony.

Rude grasped Tifa’s hand and tugged her toward a heavy wooden door on the right. Her shoes clacked on elaborate bright-colored patterns of tiny tile fragments. A sandwich board reside it read, in ostentatious curly lettering: ‘TONIGHT! Desert Rose  & Fage-Hage.’

As soon as the door opened she heard a deep, powerful singing voice like honeyed whiskey. Round tables filled the space before her. A flickering votive candle on each showed slivers of faces turned toward the stage.

The singer, in a red and black satin corset, perched on a wooden chair. Red satin flowered in curled rosettes at her hip and cleavage. Her white hair cascaded from under a black top hat with a gauzy veil, perched at such an extreme angle Tifa could only see red lips shaping breathy lyrics.

Beside her, a bald black man slowly pivoted with a pair of red-dyed chocobo feather fans flitting in his hands. Tifa gaped. He didn’t seem to be wearing anything at all, and only judicious use of the feathers kept his genitals out of sight.

He still offered quite a buffet for the eyes. Skin stretched tight over every firm curve of muscle on his glorious body. He had not a strand of hair anywhere beyond his eyelashes and eyebrows. Dark skin shone alluringly in the light. Black abstract tattoo patterns swirled out of the cores of his biceps and up from his chiseled lower abdomen.

Tifa shut her mouth and swallowed hastily, almost whimpering. Rude tugged on her arm. She slid her eyes over the Turk’s broad shoulders and torso.

_I wonder if, under that suit, he looks anything like that dancer…_ She suppressed a shudder.

He tugged again. Her thoughts awhirl, she followed in a daze. They re-emerged into the courtyard.

He dragged her to the opposite door under an orange sign that read ‘PACKRATS.’ He pushed through into a dim room of low-hanging green lamps, guitar ballads, green felt and bent-over men.

He guided her to a staircase in the far back corner of the pool hall. Her eyes lingered on denim stretched tight over the lean form of a young Wuteng man stretching across the table, one leg actually folded beneath him. Her breath caught, steps slowing. His focus, the cue thrust through his fingers, the way he twisted, all enthralled her.

Cue ball clacked, struck the bumper, only grazing its purple-banded target. She sighed and followed Rude up through the ceiling.

_…I really need to get laid_ , she thought morosely, and eyed her companion again. Her stomach fluttered. _I’m not ready to decide. I need a drink…_

They ascended into a paradise of modern Wutain décor. A swirling green iridescent panel serpentined across the wooden floor like a river. People in elegant and casual dress lounged in chairs around low tables and drawled with relaxed ease at the curving bar.

Black-and-white luck cats waved from the shelves between liquor bottles. Flat plastic Leviathan swizzles sprouted from fruit-adorned drinks. Porcelain vases with blue-inked outlines of Da Chao held leaning branches of pink and white silk sakura flowers.

Glowing green letters spelled out ‘Lifestream Lounge’ on the mirror behind the bar, next to smaller signs for Raw Mako Beer and Icicle Inn Vodka. Even far away Tifa recognized bottle shapes, label colors, and approved of the liquor selection. She pondered what drink she should order.

Rude pulled on her arm again. She frowned up at him, now quite thirsty indeed, but at his enigmatic grin she just followed him.

As they neared the side door of the bar, the lounge’s twangy tranquil Wutain music gave way to that hypnotic beat she’d heard in the courtyard. They stepped through.

A forest of tiny materia-colored bulbs embedded in the walls swirled, oscillated, changed color, reflected in clear icicle-like glass teardrops hanging from the ceiling. Mauve-colored leather couches and chairs draped with cuddling beautiful boys and girls in tight jeans, fishnet shirts, leather skirts, glittery tops, huge swirling metal earrings. Eyes and wet lipstick reflected the room’s rainbow starlight.

It didn’t take Tifa long to realize that the coruscating patterns of light matched the beat coming from beyond the clear glass wall and glass doors at the far side of the room. She could see a small balcony beyond, looking down on a cavernous room.

Red, green and blue laser sunbursts from a ring-shaped lighting rig suspended from the ceiling combed the catwalks and main dancefloor. As she neared the glass wall the music grew so near she could feel its pulse in her teeth and follicles. She saw the silhouettes of the twining mass of people against a floor lit up in colors wherever feet touched it. The dancers’ moves created half the glittering light by which they danced.

She leaned against the glass. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen. A hand cradled her shoulder. She leaned into him for support.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered inadequately.

His gloved fingers squeezed an affirmative.

_There aren’t words_ , she realized. Looking down on the floor she saw the twining lives of people who had thought more than once that their world would end. Most of them had probably had their worldview smeared by the ugly grease of grief. Instead of shriveling in hurt, they reveled loudly.

She reeled, both drawn and afraid. He guided her to the bar. She had to ignore the dancefloor for a moment, and focused instead on the friendly young waitstaff.

Willowy boys, mostly black-skinned, wore pristine white collars with black bowties and white cuffs with black cufflinks, but oddly no shirts across sallow torsos. Tifa realized with a shock the pale and dark girls in red halter minidresses, white petticoats and gloves, red pillbox hats and black fishnet tights were actually young men as well, busts fluffed out with falsies.

Sipping a purple liqueur Rude had ordered her while she boggled, she swiveled on her barstool and glanced around the room anew. Boys cuddled with boys. Girls cuddled with girls. The few girls cuddling with boys she saw turned out to be boys in drag.

She gasped.

Rude laughed.

She swiveled to him. A thousand colored lights reflected in his sunglasses like fabulous eternity.

“You’re…?” she began.

“Bisexual,” he said, sipping a rich brown liquid that almost matched his skin. “Most here are not.”

_And not heterosexual, either_ , she realized.

Light patterns flowed over her pale skin like water. She sipped, overwhelmed and bewildered. She didn’t know whether to feel disappointed, confused, or just flabbergasted.

“It’s kind of a haven,” he added. “‘Saucy Gold’ membership also grants access to the fitness facilities under the building.”

“The… what?” she said.

“Gym, dojo, and smoothie bar.” He sipped his drink. “Self-conscious, the lot of us.”

She nodded, ruminating. “I understand.”

“Do you?”

She looked up into the infinite mirrors again and frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe not.”

“Seems like you girls are always looking to be thinner. Guys… we always want more muscle, more tone. Nothing’s ever enough, is it?”

She blinked, drank her drink.

“Membership here also pays for these.” He pointed at a bowl on the bar she’d seen out of the corner of her eye and dismissed as candy. Really focusing on it showed her the bright-colored wrappers actually held condoms. “Free for everyone.”

She reached for one and examined the bright red wrapper. Different fonts listed the separate areas of the club—Materia Dancefloor & Bar, Packrats Pool Hall, Desert Queen Theatre, Lifestream Lounge, Beautiful Bro Gym, Fancy Fruits Smoothie Bar.

“…And pays for the twenty-four-hour needle exchange out back,” he added. “This place looks out for more than just its customers.”

She put the condom back, exhaling, thinking of the every-man-for-himself feelings she used to get wandering through the slums of under-Plate Midgar. _Was there even a place like this then, before Meteorfall? Would I have known where to look? This place…_

Her eyes drifted to the spectacular lightshow on the dancefloor. She felt thrumming beats in her gut and in her sex, beckoning.

_No words_ , she thought. _Some things can only be felt._

She finished her drink.

“Can we go in?” she asked him in a small voice, as if more than a simple glass door was stopping her.

He beamed, took her arm as she rose off the stool, and shepherded her into hedonistic delight.

No words. Down in the mass of ecstatic gratefully alive people, only movement, motion, and the moment existed.

***

“I LOVE your dress!”

“How do you get your hair to stay so silky? You must have, like, magic genes!”

“Look at these muscles! Have you seen her muscles, guys?”

“I _know_! This stone fox is pure fierceness!”

Pink and purple cocktails clustered on the bar in front of Tifa. Her head swam with effervescent praise gushing from a ring of spangly spandex-polyester-clad young men around her. She beamed at them, sipping through a straw, still flushed and sweaty from the transcendent dancefloor where she’d collected them all. Rude sat a little further down to give her admirers space.

She giggled and posed, showing off her bicep to appreciative sighs.

“You know,” she said, “straight guys all run and hide when I bring out my ladyguns!”

The boys laughed.

She basked in attention without expectation of sex, sans that constant nagging pressure in eyes and gestures and ‘oops-accidentally-brushed-your-boob’ she got in straight bars and clubs. And, increasingly, everywhere—to the point where she hated going out at all.

“I love this place!” she said.

“This place loves _you_ , honey!” purred a strawberry-blond thin boy at her elbow. He leaned in, grinning. “You’ve got to come back next week, MCs KeepKalm and Makonoid are having a spin-off!”

“I don’t even know what that is and I want to be here!” she said. She glanced over at Rude, who was smiling secretively at his glass.

A fresh beat thumped from the dancefloor and half her companions squealed.

“‘Corellian Heatwave,’ oh my god! I love this song!” said one, and they scrambled for the door as one seething mass of glittery excitement. “Tifa! Are you coming?!”

“I need a break! Thirsty!” she laughed, indicating the field of drinks they’d all bought her. Her eyes met Rude’s sunglasses as the group poured back out toward the dancefloor. He scooted over.

“Enjoying yourself?” he said as she downed a glass.

“Oh, my Holy, yes!” she said. “Thank you, Rude. I don’t know when I’ve had so much fun. You know, I haven’t even been to a club in four years!”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Really?”

She nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I’m really glad I came out tonight.”

He chuckled. She realized how she’d phrased it and laughed as well.

“Does Reno ever come here with you?” she said, booze emboldening her to nose at the relationship she’d always wondered at between the two Turks.

“Once. He didn’t like it,” he said.

“He _didn’t_? This place is a constant party!”

“Exactly. Too many other pretty boys, too much shiny shit to look at that isn’t him.”

She stared at him, perplexed for half a second more as she digested his words. Then she burst out laughing, head in her hand, elbow on the bar. She shook her head. She gazed around herself anew at the hedonistic wonderland—a pleasure island in an urban sea.

Her eyes met Cloud’s, staring in horror at her from the doorway.


	2. Stranger in a Strange Land

Seeing The Promised Land through Tifa’s eyes thrilled Rude to no end. After months of waiting for the right moment, he’d finally gotten the chance to socially engineer a smile on that mopey face. The one he’d once wanted to take off his gloves and memorize with his fingertips.

He hadn’t had any other particular agenda in mind—her joy was pleasure enough for him—right up until he saw her stiffen and swiveled to look at who had just arrived. Mako-blue eyes stared at them both, his already-pale face drained to white, mouth hanging open. As if someone had just told Cloud that Sephiroth would be dropping in later with his silver-haired boy-toy posse.

Seeing him without his composure, fine blond spikes glittering in the colored light, in the least likely of places, thumped through Rude even stronger than the bass. He lifted a hand to beckon Cloud over, since Tifa was clearly paralyzed with shock.

That Cloud obeyed made Rude even warmer under sweat-slick skin. He reached up, about to loosen his tie, thought better of it and straightened it instead.

“Cloud!” said Tifa. “What are you doing here?”

The poor man’s eyes flicked from her to Rude as pink colored his face.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” the Turk offered more casually. “First time?”

Cloud nodded, remained standing in awkward silence. He watched with pinched brows as Tifa rapidly drained a glass and picked up another. Rude had enormous sympathy for both. Tifa’s romantic designs on Cloud were a secret to no one. This club was as good as a big flashy ‘GAY’ sign pointing at most everyone who walked through the doors.

Tifa sighed and turned to Cloud, who now looked ready to flee.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said.

“You… are?” he said hesitantly.

She nodded, smiling. “I’m having the best night. You deserve some fun too.” She swiveled to Rude with a squeak of the leather upholstery against sweaty velvet. “What do you say, Rude? Should we drag him to the dancefloor, maybe loosen him up?”

The bald man grinned, finished his drink and rose.

“…What?” said Cloud, too late. Tifa grabbed a fistful of his sweater vest and hauled the fashion-victim hero of the world after her. Rude, following into the press of the gathering crowd, leaned down to murmur huskily in the younger man’s ear: “Relax.”

This seemed to have the opposite effect. A wall of sound hit the three of them as they passed through glass doors onto the catwalk. Cloud’s frown deepened as they neared the floor. Frantically oscillating dance beats meant that his characteristic silence wasn’t out of place, but it seemed like every other scrap of him was.

With Tifa marching before him and Rude behind, he would have had to fight off both in order to leave. Tension even thicker than drums surrounded the swordfighter.

Tifa tugged insistently, slinking and swaying to the music. Cloud stiffened, the press of bodies having rammed him back against Rude. The latter laid a tender hand on Cloud’s hip and gently insinuated a step to the side. Tifa, spotting this, collaborated to get this white boy moving.

He was just as clumsy and awkward as the paleness of his skin promised. Rude marveled that someone so graceful and agile with a sword the size and weight of a human could not find any semblance of rhythm.

_Ain’t that how it goes?_ Rude grinned to himself.

His persistence and Tifa’s wore Cloud down, and Cloud did not run. Like willowy moths to a golden flame boys melted out of the dancefloor and clustered around Cloud. All were lit from below by the shimmering lights in the floor panel and from above by lasers. With talk impossible, their bodies spoke for them, wide sparkling eyes on Cloud. He frowned at them, but didn’t pull away. 

Rude stepped back and watched. A boy reached up to delicately touch the spikes, hesitating, waiting for the blonde’s refusal and getting none. Fingertips ruffled through hair. The teenager then smiled and leaned his own head forward. Cloud reached up, noticed his own glove.

Rude remained only barely aware of dancers jostling him from behind. Cloud took the leather off his hand and touched the boy’s dark hair. Such a still, private moment in the chaos transfixed Rude. Another boy reached up, looking to Cloud’s face for permission. Cloud nodded, still frowning, but less so.

In moments a cluster of boys were running their fingers through Cloud’s spikes. He still had his hand on the first boy’s head. Young virile male bodies pressed in toward him. Rude sucked in air over his teeth. Cloud’s eyes slid shut, his head tipping back, pale throat stretching.

_God. Damn._ Rude thought. He stripped off his own glove, easily reaching over the heads of Cloud’s admirers to add his bare dark fingers to the wriggling pile.

He’d expected stiffness and crunch but instead found feathery softness. Also acute desire to grip the young man’s head, pull him through the press of admirers and kiss that soft-looking mouth. Rude pulled his hand back with a shaky sigh.

The boys around Cloud began to dance with him, timid touches sliding over his arms, shirt, body. Eyes still closed, he found the rhythm at last and got lost in it. A beautiful orphan in a sea of the beautiful dispossessed.

One of the dancers abruptly leaned in and kissed Cloud. Bright blue eyes flew open and caught the light, blonde eyebrows banging together in shock. Cloud shoved the young man off him, backing away. Rude moved toward the swordsman.

_He’s done_ , Rude thought, seeing his anxious expression. The Turk clasped Cloud’s shoulder and pointed to the nearest exit, then waved Tifa over to follow before bulldozing a path through horny, antsy, twitchy dancers.

Rude felt relief he hadn’t been the one to kiss Cloud and earn that fearful expression. An enemy he once worked so hard to defeat he now wanted to protect.

In the courtyard’s quiet sanctuary Rude turned. Cloud met his eyes, glazed in sweat. His chin lifted.

“Tifa,” said Rude, not looking away. “Mind opening the bar for us?” He saw her look from him to Cloud, who glanced back at her, wordless.

“Not at all,” she said. “What are friends for?”

Cloud nodded. 

Rude didn’t trust her slow smile, the twinkle in her eye. Yet he badly wanted a simple de-sparkled place to sit and drink and see if Cloud would speak.

***

Teasing the knob of the radio in Seventh Heaven with little tweaks, Rude grinned as he unearthed soothing Coastan blues rhythms he’d been seeking. He remembered the taste of stolen beignets and sun-warmed orange soda, tingle on the tongue. He remembered salty tang of breezes through the open back door of a bar, jazz pouring back out like a tide, lounging with other lanky dark-skinned boys on empty crates stacked out back. Lazy afternoons, sugar-dusted shorts, salt-dusted sandals.

He joined Tifa and Cloud at one of the little round tables. Cloud finished his first helping of honey-brown liquid. Tifa poured another before the glass even touched the wood. Rude noted as he took the empty seat between them and lifted his glass that its fumes made his eyes water.

Rude found silence comfortable and potent. He had no problems sitting back behind his shades, unmoving, watching others squirm as the quiet filled up like a glass and finally spill over as the other person poured out nervous words. In this case, Cloud met and held his eyes and sipped. Holding it in like he could match Rude’s reserve all day long.

“How did you find out about that place?” said Tifa, topping up the glasses of the two men. “I’d never even heard of it before.”

Cloud shifted his gaze to her and shrugged. “A couple of people mentioned it to me in passing. Fliers, mostly.”

“Did you know what it was?” she said.

He nodded.

Rude found the younger man’s economy of movement and control enthralling. _What would it take to make him lose control?_ Rude’s leash on his thoughts slipped ever-more as Tifa greased it with the never-ending glass in his hands. He held onto it tightly while his fingers dreamed of sliding bare along the curve of Cloud’s bicep, locking around his wrist, pulling.

“What did you think?” said Tifa.

Cloud’s eyebrows lifted. He took a long drink, throat bobbing in a way that made Rude shudder, and leveled his eyes at the Turk. “Loud.”

A giggle burst out of Tifa as she poured her friend’s glass full again. Rude couldn’t help smiling, although it faded thoughtfully under that watchful gaze.

Rude admired that even with bare-naked eyes Cloud could hide his feelings. The sunglasses were a bit of a cheat Rude didn’t mind using to psych out those around him. He knew that verbally he could probably out-silence Cloud, but those closed-yet-open eyes were an accomplishment. Everything that didn’t leak out of his gaze remained stored in that deceptively small yet heavy pale body. Waiting for the world to fall into danger, and then all that hidden intensity could pour out sharp as a blade.

_What, if anything else, would unleash you?_ Rude wondered. _Is there anything I have that could open you to me? And what would you do then? Are you dominant? Submissive?_ He took another sip, letting the taste roll around in his mouth, considering both possibilities and finding each equally hot.

Cloud jolted and swiveled abruptly, breaking into Rude’s elaborate daydream. The young man stared at the radio. A new song had just come on, a silky sweet woman’s voice beckoning her lover home to her.

Cloud’s mouth twitched. He laid a hand down on the table. From a man whose every move seemed deliberate, it told Rude that Cloud was feeling something overwhelming. A tiny crack.

Tifa saw it too. She moved to tip more booze into Cloud’s glass, no longer subtle about what she was doing. Rude’s hand shot out to clap over the rim. He leaned his head forward enough to give her a warning look over the top of his sunglasses. Startled, she pulled back.

“I was seventeen,” Rude murmured. Cloud twisted back to look at him. Once the man was looking right at him, Rude reached up and with deliberate slowness removed his sunglasses, continuing: “Leon was thirty. Understood me in a way that women didn’t. I thought it was because he was a man. Later I realized it was a part of Leon himself—regardless of gender, it’s who the person is inside that counts.”

Cloud’s eyes widened. Rude lifted his chin, exposed without the shades on the table between them.

“Your first—“ said Rude, and stopped. Booze was trying to push words out of him. It didn’t seem such a good idea anymore. Cloud’s brow had tightened, hands curling into fists, clearly about to snap. Rude tensed, wondering if he should even fight back. It didn’t seem fair.

“You—“ Rude began, trying to fumble a retraction.

Cloud flung the table aside, earning a yelp from Tifa. Rude reared back so hard he almost tipped his chair over. Before he could lift his hands Cloud had slammed into him, grabbed Rude’s jaw in his hands and pushed his mouth roughly in place.

As the kiss really took off and Rude’s brain spun, Cloud sank to a seated position straddling Rude’s thighs. Rude reached up to clasp Cloud’s hips, hesitant, wide eyes staring at Cloud’s sweetly closed ones. Rude felt a tongue-tip prod at his teeth.

_Well, fuck, all right…_ Rude thought, closing his eyes and parting his lips. Ragged breath tickled his cheek. The chair creaked beneath Rude as Cloud leaned in harder. The man’s hips ground into Rude’s, stealing his breath, compressing two male bodies together.

Rude’s ears rang from a combination of alcohol, breathlessness, and blood pooling in his lower reaches. The space between them suddenly got a lot tighter, and not just on Rude’s side of it. Rude tore off his gloves, remembering his earlier tactile fantasy, and feasted on the feel of Cloud’s skin over those arms. It wasn’t enough. Rude peeled up the hem of Cloud’s sweaty shirt and rammed his hands up inside.

Under his bare touch he felt Cloud shudder. Gloves pulled away from Rude’s face. He felt so much from the stimulation of Cloud moving on him and that white-hot kiss he didn’t dare open his eyes to check out what was happening. In a moment a bare hand was sliding over the top of Rude’s bald head and he broke out in a sweat. Rude moaned.

_So… soft!_ His surprise at Cloud’s uncalloused skin felt as profound as the discovery of downy-soft hair. Despite the hard, tight body and one-way gaze, Cloud had hidden delicacy Rude was eager to grab and bite and taste and feel.

He did so now, tearing his mouth from Cloud’s and dipping to nibble at that pale throat. Cloud’s head tipped back and a groan of “…hmm…” escaped him.

That did it. Rude wrapped his arms around Cloud’s back and with a staggering push heaved up off the chair. Cloud tensed. Rude pulled back to look at Cloud’s face.

No more restraint could be found there. Desperate, pleading gaze. Rude kissed him tenderly. Cloud uncoiled.

The sound of a door opening jolted both men. Cloud turned around, Rude looking over his head.

Grinning fit to break her face, Tifa stood at the end of the darkened hall. She held a door open to show a room, bright with moonlight, the end of a bed just visible. Rude met Cloud’s eyes as they swung around again and nodded eagerly to him, breathing hard.

The corner of Cloud’s mouth quirked. He grabbed Rude’s tie just under the knot and dragged the taller, older man along the hall. Rude broke out in achy gooseflesh all over as they entered the bedroom.

Tifa shut the door, blotting out the jazz in the front room. All Rude could hear now was his and Cloud’s gasping breath as their strong bodies and mouths slammed eagerly back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Cloud/Rude fan illustration for this chapter by the amazing Amanda!](https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ZTG4_Nqs9_8/UE6QTlrv-DI/AAAAAAAAFS0/tMQKSCe98Qs/s800/ClouandRude014.jpg)


	3. Moonlight Sleeping on the Midnight Lake

“Don’t go,” Cloud said to Tifa, who hovered near the door she’d shut behind her. She looked uncertain, but at his urging moved to lean against the wall.

Cloud, anxious heart reassured, returned his full unbridled attention to the bald dark-skinned man licking his neck and fisting his sleeveless sweater. It felt less overwhelming to make out with a former enemy with one of his oldest and dearest allies at hand.

Since the moment the Gongagan song ‘Frog Prince’ had come on the radio Cloud felt entranced by memory. His head spun from more than just plentiful booze to which he was unaccustomed.

Cloud had forgotten how richly he responded to a partner taller than himself. Years had passed since he’d been so much as touched or glanced at by someone beyond his height. Rude was built like a brick house, as Cloud’s tentative fingers inside that suit jacket confirmed.

Pecs. Shoulders. Firmness. Mastery. Cloud’s saliva poured over Rude’s eager, probing tongue in his mouth. Periodically he peeked at those intense eyes watching his reactions, which sent shivers down Cloud’s spine. He’d never seen Rude sans glasses before. Without armor; raw.

Cloud realized that at some point Rude had also doffed his gloves. Strong smooth hot hands peeled off his clothes. Rude’s heartfelt confession kept echoing to Cloud. Those rare words stirred the taut area between Cloud’s legs, building up his erection.

Cloud recalled when he was young, the first time a man had touched him, those passionate pants in his ear. The strength in his friend’s hands as they pulled Cloud’s hips close. A touch he missed some cold nights to the point of agony.

Cloud grabbed for Rude’s tie, yanking, and then underneath it, buttons flew. Beneath that—oh, all the strength and musculature for which Cloud had been hoping. Cloud disengaged himself from Rude’s addictive yet stubbly mouth to peer at what he’d uncovered.

Rude didn’t disappoint, to say the least. Smooth and bare as his head, contoured with every muscle, a taut chest presented itself for Cloud’s inspection. Rude heaved with passionate breaths Cloud felt astounded he’d inspired. He ditched his own gloves in such a panicked hurry Rude chuckled.

The Turk’s noise turned into a groan as Cloud dragged fingertips across bare flesh, teased at those proud dark nipples. Cloud glanced up at Rude’s drawn expression. Rude grasped the back of Cloud’s head and kissed him again.

Scraping goatee hairs thrilled Cloud immensely. He felt the kiss all the way out to his fingertips as he forced Rude’s jacket and shirt off with a slithering flop. Now the Turk wore his tie, pants, shoes. Cloud wrapped the tie around his fist and tugged hard, forcing the taller man’s lips tighter to his own.

Rude pulled his mouth away and buried his head in Cloud’s neck. Over that sweat-slick scalp Cloud spotted Tifa, reclining against the wall, brows drawn sweetly together as she gazed on.

It made the whole experience even hotter. Cloud grabbed for Rude’s ass like an eager teenager. Rude snickered, his noise humming against Cloud’s throat.

Cloud, though he’d initiated, had no intention of running the show. He knew only one way to say this to a man of few words: he swiveled Rude around and dropped down on the bed, pulling the Turk on top of him. His eyes opened to check Rude’s expression.

He grinned at the older man’s shock and feasted on Rude’s goatee, waiting for the hint to be taken. Fortunately Rude caught on fast and began stripping Cloud excitedly.

Cloud moaned and arched into a dominant touch he’d longed for longer than he cared to admit. He discovered to his chagrin as Rude was taking off his pants that he’d inadvertently hooked his ankles around Rude’s.

_Just… please…_ Cloud thought, uncoiling enough to let undressing happen more expediently. Rude’s hand brushed over his erection inside his boxers.

“ _Khhhhh…_ ” Cloud gasped. His blonde head pushed into the pillow as Rude’s fingers returned, teasing, outside that oh-so-thin fabric. Cloud focused his attention on the eager lover kneeling half-dressed over him and that fantastic rack of abdominal muscles.

It felt incredible to slide fingers through sweat over smooth skin, heaving with Rude’s every breath. As controlled and laid-back as the man had seemed in all else, he appeared to be teetering on the verge of losing it for Cloud. Even underneath him, waiting for his every caress, Cloud had power over this stoic man.

With one hand Cloud pried at the man’s pants fastenings, the other impatiently feeling for a preview of erect penis and his balls. Rude chuckled softly. Cloud knew his own eyes reflected the pleading he felt inside.

Rude released Cloud and rose up to take off pants and shoes while Cloud watched. The barefisted fighter casually showed off agility and strength as he arched, muscles moving under tea-colored skin. For a moment Cloud admired with an ache in his groin and almost forgot he was allowed to touch.

Rude dropped down with heart-wrenching speed onto strong hands planted on either side of Cloud’s shoulders. The bed bounced under them. Rude leaned down to kiss. Cloud gratefully accepted.

Toffee-colored lips dragged down his neck. Cloud arched. Rude navigated down Cloud’s gasping chest, inch by aching inch. Fingers dragged at Cloud’s boxers. His hips lifted without prompting. Down and off. Gooseflesh broke out all over his pale skin. Rude’s hands and mouth slid back up Cloud’s legs with a soft, “hmmm…”

“Hrgh,” Cloud groaned in response.

Contact. Fingertips on his ballsack, a tongue-tip on the head of his cock. Cloud shuddered. He craned his neck to look down at that smooth head bent over him. The flat of Rude’s tongue swirled around the head of his penis.

“ _Unhh…_ ” Cloud gasped, head dropping, hands balling to fists in the pale dusty quilt beneath him. His balls nestled easily in a strong wide fighter’s palm, fingertips pressing behind them and sending Cloud to heaven as lips slid down his shaft. And pulling back up. Such suction. Cloud bucked inadvertently.

Rude pulled off with a sticky pop and another chuckle. Cloud curled up on himself toward the man kneeling before him, grabbed Rude’s shoulder, forced a fresh kiss. He hadn’t even realized he’d leaked precum until he tasted saltiness on the Turk’s tongue.

Cloud whimpered. Rude’s hands slid under Cloud’s back. Cloud gratefully allowed himself to be pressed into the bed by Rude’s weight, penis squeezed between their taut hips. Rude’s erection against Cloud’s thigh peeked out of black boxers.

Cloud stilled, shocked, twisting to look down at the foreign feeling at the head of Rude’s dick. The man helpfully lifted enough so Cloud could see. The younger man gaped. A thick ring of silver metal protruding out of Rude’s urethra and underside of his head, each end capped in a little metal ball.

Eager hands shot down unbidden to explore this unexpected thing. As he fingered the piercing, Rude shuddered. Cloud glanced up at the man’s glazed eyes. A bolt of pleasure seared down Cloud’s spine into his groin as he wondered what that hardware would feel like stuffed up inside him. Rude nudged his mouth into Cloud’s.

Cloud slid eager fingers up and around the older man’s back, inside underwear to grab hold of that chiseled ass. Rude rolled his hips into Cloud’s, aligning their dicks inadvertently.

“Rrr!” Cloud growled, in a little discomfort and a whole lot of pleasure.

Rude nipped at Cloud’s neck before peeling off him once more. Cloud propped up on his elbows to watch, as Rude knelt on the floor and fished through his clothing. Nearly naked, he looked like the pinnacle of masculine form. His deltoids shifted and slid under Cloud’s hungry gaze.

Rude rose to his full height as he turned, smiling. His eyes dragged over the reclining Cloud. Cloud leaned back, pleased with the way he was being ogled by a man holding a condom in one hand and a bright blue tube of lubricant in the other, that cock piercing shining in moonlight through the curtains.

Just for a moment, Cloud felt like a shooting star, in anticipation of what loomed over him. He pushed his hands behind his head, elbows spread wide, grinning at Rude. Rude bent a knee. The bed shifted under his weight. Cloud couldn’t help reaching for the body leaning down to eclipse his.

He snatched the condom from Rude’s fingers, clamped it in his teeth and tore the package, eyes never leaving Rude’s hypnotic brown gaze. Cloud, grin still pouring out of one corner of his mouth, took the latex sheath in hand and reached down to grasp Rude’s cock beneath those boxers. Rude’s eyebrow arched higher as Cloud carefully unrolled the condom over that piercing and down his shaft, adding a grasp and tug.

Rude shed his boxers with a ragged gasp that thrilled Cloud to no end. Cloud tucked his knees up to his chest, narrowing his eyes at Rude. The Turk crouched down and Cloud heard the snap of a cap. Cool slippery wetness touched his asshole moments later. Cloud shut his eyes, curling arms around his knees, enjoying the moment.

Rude didn’t disappoint. In fact Cloud felt surprised how long the man spent easing goo up into him, one teasing finger at a time. Cloud wiggled his ass at Rude to get on with it. The Turk would not be rushed.

Cloud sighed through his nose, nearly a whine of frustrated anticipation. Undeterred, Rude gently insinuated only two fingers, an inch at a time, up into Cloud’s anus.

“Hnngh,” Cloud insisted pointedly.

Rude said nothing. A thumb, which Cloud thought would join those fingers, pushed against the sensitive flesh between balls and anus. A moist tongue slurped its way up Cloud’s dick.

Cloud writhed with an expressive groan as Rude wiggled his fingers. A third finger joined, and suddenly Rude seemed hell-bent on locating Cloud’s prostate.

“ _OH_!” Cloud arched off the bed.

Infuriatingly, Rude took this cue to remove his hand.

“Uh… hey…” said Cloud, head spinning, starting to open his eyes. A mouth smashed over his. Rude’s body compressed his into the bed. He felt a slick presence probing his anus and quivered. Rude kissed until Cloud was still.

With the sweetness of an anticipated letter being opened, the head of Rude’s prick eased into Cloud’s ass. A moment of apprehension passed as that unyielding metal ring popped into Cloud’s sphincter with no discomfort. Rude’s tongue licked the inside of Cloud’s mouth as the blonde relaxed into sensation and intensity. At first Cloud panicked— _Has it been too long? Have I forgotten how to let go?_ —and then it seemed easy as hefting the Buster Sword.

_You never forget._

“ _Mnnnn_ ,” Cloud groaned as Rude penetrated him by inches. Without a word the Turk knew just how slow to go, to drive Cloud out of his mind and into fits of ecstasy.

Cloud managed to peel his eyes open and saw those bare ones staring with intense curiosity into his own. Without his shades Rude looked so vulnerable and alive.

Rude sighed, apparently at Cloud’s gaze, and leaned deeper in. He reached down to uncurl Cloud’s knees and push blonde-haired shins up onto those broad dark shoulders. Cloud gasped a ragged breath at this new depth of penetration.

Rude kept leaning down until his lips met Cloud’s again. A lifetime seemed to have passed since that first impulsive kiss. Cloud felt utterly filled by Rude’s cock and that was just peachy by him.

Cloud felt seized by a desire to insinuate his hips up toward Rude’s, but knew that patience would reward him if he just let go even more. Rude didn’t disappoint. Rude rocked over Cloud, easing his prick out a little, then deeper in. Cloud groaned. Rude did as well.

_Oh, Holy, yes_ , Cloud thought, hoping to hear the man’s silence crack even more.

Like a tide Rude pulled back and poured into Cloud. Cloud bit his own lip watching the Turk’s eyebrows pinch together. Rude’s breath stuttered through his nose. It was as good as a mile of ‘yes’es from someone verbose. Cloud humped up at him. Rude thrust in.

Waves of pleasure blossomed up through Cloud, made his penis twitch between them. The intense pressure of that large dick in his ass drew a wince from him, at which Rude stilled and leaned down to kiss Cloud again. Cloud felt delicious, patient throbbing inside him as they kissed. He relaxed further, adjusting to a cock being inside him again after so long. The added feeling of the piercing was the cherry on top.

Rude didn’t seem to mind Cloud’s fingers digging into his back, or playful teeth pulling Rude’s lower lip in. After a few moments of this Rude gave a gentle thrust of his cock into Cloud’s hot ass.

“MMMMmmm!” Cloud groaned, nails scratching across Rude’s shoulderblades. _Much better!_

The Turk hissed in pleasure. Cloud glanced up at him and rolled his hips to try to elicit more sensual groans from the man. They developed a languid rhythm of give and take, thrusting, gripping.

Rude let loose with a very satisfying drawn-out: “HNNNNNGGHHhhhhhhhhh…”

After only a few more thrusts, white-hot friction in Cloud’s ass, Rude pulled up and sat back on his heels, his prick popping out of Cloud. Rude reached for the lube again. Large skilled hands palmed clear goo all over that sweet sheathed cock.

He set the tube aside and reached down with his other hand to grab Cloud’s wrist and tug. Cloud sat up, interested. He grinned as Rude pulled him into a warm waiting lap and seated himself on strong folded legs.

Rude’s fist curled around Cloud’s cock, fingers tightening and releasing in sequence all up and down his length. Being inside that fist that had once smashed across his jaw in combat thrilled Cloud.

Cloud tilted his head and sucked Rude’s ring-laden earlobe between his lips. His tongue-tip teased through all that metal, taste mingled with sweat. Rude’s head was delightfully slick as well under Cloud’s hands, a thrill he’d not really expected. His prick twitched in Rude’s grip. His teeth closed gently on Rude’s neck.

The older man clasped Cloud’s hips and urged them up. Cloud complied, eager to feel that pierced cock in his ass again. Their limbs tangled as they maneuvered their panting sweaty bodies around, Cloud braced on Rude’s strong chest, Rude’s hand down under his ass to probe with a couple of fingers before lining up that cock again.

Cloud sank down, slow, grateful. His eyes rolled up in his head. The new angle of penetration thrilled him with intensity. Rude groaned expressively.

Cloud’s hips curled in, setting the pace this time. Rude heaved strongly up into his ass every now and again but it was up to Cloud to ride the Turk. As controlled as Cloud thought he was, when Rude started moaning into Cloud’s neck, when that hand snaked between them again to grasp Cloud’s dick, the younger man lost it. He slammed his ass down on Rude’s cock, rocking, gasping, desperate.

“OHHH…!” Rude gasped urgently, digging fingers into Cloud’s back hard enough to bruise and clenching his fist around Cloud’s cock.

“Hnnghh… UNHHH! OHHH!” Cloud grunted, body snapping taut, pleasurable agony rocketing through lower half. Rude lifted his hips as Cloud spurted in his hands. He rammed frantically up into Cloud. That cock piercing struck at Cloud’s prostate and elicited a scream of ecstasy from the blonde.

“RRRRRRRR!” Rude snarled. He stuttered gasps as his prick twitched in Cloud’s ass. Cloud rode the aftershocks, arms twined around Rude. Rude released his cock and curled Cloud into an embrace to steady both men as they caught their breath.

Cloud felt lightheaded, going limp, listing to the side. Rude eased Cloud down on the bed and pulled his cock slowly out. He gripped the base of the condom to keep it on until he was clear.

Cloud lay sprawled. He felt slightly uncomfortable from his position but too blissed-out to care. Rude’s body unfolded down next to his. Cloud’s half-opened eyes roved to watch Rude remove the condom. Tifa moved into view, holding out her gloved hand for it. Cloud felt mild shock and surprise, having forgotten she was there. His eyes opened the rest of the way and saw her shiny-eyed grin in dim light. She handed Rude a towel.

He smiled lazily up at her as the Turk cleaned both men up. Tifa leaned across Rude’s naked form and planted a gentle kiss on Cloud’s forehead. As she pulled away Rude slid an arm under Cloud’s back and tugged him close. Cloud settled his head on Rude’s shoulder. He heard Tifa’s bootfalls cross the room, the squeak of the door opening and click of it shutting.

Rude’s fingers ruffled through Cloud’s hair. Cloud shivered with a smile, relaxing into that sweaty warm embrace. Tension he’d felt for so long it had become indistinguishable from other parts of him had gone missing. Sleep was inevitable, and Cloud didn’t resist. He sank into dark skin, smell of sex, a tide of Rude’s breath, tickle of his fingers.


	4. Epilogue

**_Tifa_ **

Tifa swayed to the sounds of soft marimba rhythms from the radio. She gathered glasses into the sink, ran the hot tap, squirted in soap. In her distraction she splashed water on her dress and failed to care.

She couldn’t slop grinning. Her mind instant-replayed ultra-hot memories she wanted to preserve forever. Such quiet, desperate groans and grunts, two beautiful male forms enjoying each other, the unexpected pleasure of paying witness to Cloud’s helpless ecstasy as his head tipped back and he screamed.

_Like the greatest sport on the planet_ , she thought with a soft chuckle to herself, still lightheaded from all the booze. _Forget the uniforms. Forget the teams. I’d pay to see that._

She loved that sleepy look Cloud had given her before he’d conked out on Rude’s chest, the moon lighting up blond spikes Rude was caressing, so pale against dark skin. His happiness eased disappointed pangs that she hadn’t been the one to bring it forth.

_How could I be sad?_ she thought. _I’ve been to the Promised Land!_

**_Cloud_ **

Cloud dismounted Fenrir and took out the PHS he’d felt buzz in his pocket as he rode out to Kalm. He flipped it open. A message from Tifa’s PHS, time-stamped shortly after Cloud left that morning, came through.

A grin burst out all over his face at the picture. Rude’s left eyebrow arched high over the edge of Cloud’s sunglasses.

Cloud peeled Rude’s off his face and twirled them around by the temple, eyeing them thoughtfully. Then he planted the shades back on the bridge of his nose, held up his phone in front of his face with the lens aimed in, and snapped a picture.

He leaned against a wall and tapped out a text, then sent it.

**_Rude_ **

“You look like you had a fun time,” Rude murmured at Reno’s haggard appearance as they crossed the chopper pad on the roof of the WRO’s main building in Edge.

Reno grinned tiredly. “I’m telling you, man: ‘thank god Meteor didn’t kill us’ sex is the greatest thing in the world. You have to get in on that action before it’s gone.” He spread his arms. “Whaddya say? Turtle’s Paradise tonight? Couple of giggling gals? I’m sure some of those Wutai chicks ain’t so repressed they can’t appreciate two grade-A Turk specimens.”

Rude’s PHS buzzed as he shook his head at his incorrigible partner. He fished it out of his inner breast pocket and flipped it open. The picture that popped up stopped him in his tracks.

Underneath the delicious picture he read text that sent reserves of blood rushing southward and spun up his pulse: ‘ _What will you do to get them back?_ ’

“…Just lose those new shades, you look like a fucking ski instructor!” Reno called ironically over his shoulder as he climbed up into the cockpit of the black Shinra chopper.

Rude shut his phone a moment later, grinning, and headed for the chopper. He’d used company property to send the filthiest message he’d ever so much as conceptualized. 

“Got a booty call?” Reno leered as Rude joined him in the cockpit. “And more importantly, does she have a friend?”

Rude chuckled softly to himself at the mental image of Reno trying to make time with Tifa and receiving a roundhouse kick to the balls. He put on his headset. His PHS buzzed again and he flipped it out as Reno spun up the chopper.

“She hot? You got any naked pictures of her?” said Reno.

Rude hardened as he read: ‘ _Friday, your place?_ ’

“C’mon, partner! I always show you! What unholy hotness broke your ridiculously long celibacy streak? …I’m gonna find out anyway. I always do. Make it easier for yourself.”

Rude stashed his phone with an enigmatic smile, reply sent.

“You’re no fun at all,” Reno muttered as Rude took hold of the control stick, anticipating the blonde-haired enjoyment to come.


End file.
